


U.S.S. Hetalia - Boldly Going

by postmodern_robot



Series: Starfleet Hetalia [1]
Category: Hetalia - Fandom, Star Trek
Genre: Crossover, IN SPACE!, Multi, Star Trek AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-28 00:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2711963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postmodern_robot/pseuds/postmodern_robot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>GerIta - Half-Human/Vulcan Captain Ludwig Beilschmidt commands the USS Hetalia with its ridiculous but dedicated crew. When they rescue Romulan Feliciano Vargas as the lone survivor from a damaged ship, they discover that he is as un-Romulan as a Romulan could be (without being a Vulcan).</p>
            </blockquote>





	U.S.S. Hetalia - Boldly Going

**Author's Note:**

> Space - The Final Frontier...  
> These are the voyages of the Starship Hetalia. Its mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before...
> 
> Ba...badabaa...badabaaaa....
> 
> Characters:
> 
> On board the U.S.S. Hetalia
> 
> \- Captain Ludwig Beilschmidt - Half Human/Vulcan - Captain of the USS Hetalia  
> \- Commander Nandez Antonio - Bajoran - First Officer  
> \- Commander Z’Bet Héderváry - Human/Klingon Hybrid - Chief of Security/Tactical Officer  
> \- Lt Commander Francis Bonnefoy - Betazoid - Chief Medical Officer  
> \- Lt Commander Roderica Del - Joined Trill - Ship’s Counselor/Communications Specialist  
> \- Lt Kiku Honda - Vulcan - Chief of Engineering  
> \- Ensign Amelia F Jones - Human - Helmsman  
> \- Gilbert Beilschmidt - Human - Bartender/Owner of ‘Gilbird’s’ - Ship’s Rest/Lounge Area

*CRASH*  
 _“You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog! Cryin’ all the time! Yeah you ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog....!”_

Captain Ludwig Beilschmidt let out a quiet groan. Outwardly his face showed no difference, but on the inside he was repeating numerous mantras to hold his annoyance in check. He knew it was a bad idea to let his older fully human half-brother run a bar on his ship, but Gilbert could be a master logician when he wanted and there was no argument that Ludwig could invent that would deny Gilbert his wish. That was what happened, Ludwig knew, when a child found himself with a Vulcan step-mother and half-Vulcan little brother to care for, but the experience gave Gilbert a mad brilliance which had served him well in his former Starfleet career.

On paper the idea for the bar was a good one. The entire lounge that made up ‘Gilbird’s’ was actually a retired holodeck suite. Gilbert had used his considerable engineering skills to fix the old holodeck, and now GilBird’s was a place the crew retreated to when they wanted to be surprised. Gilbert ran an open contest to allow his customers to choose the theme. Left alone, ‘Gilbird’s’ was a surprisingly airy, elegant and almost gentle place - an open aviary in a cool windswept grassland where beautiful exotic birds from around the galaxy were free to fly in or go (miraculously not leaving droppings). However, with the contest, the bar became more lively. One day the bar could be a cabaret in old Berlin, the next a tropical pleasure paradise on Riza. Today, it was a 70s American rock and roll club, thanks to Helmsman Ensign Jones winning the last contest. Since the Federation was a cashless society, Gilbert ran the bar out of love and a need to provide and receive entertainment. However, Gilbert still seemed restless, and Ludwig often wondered about Gilbert’s seemingly sudden decision to quit Starfleet. He had actually been the First Officer on this very ship, until the disappearance of its former Captain - Nandes João, the current First Officer’s older brother. Gilbert however, would refuse to speak of it.

“Capitaine! Come join us!” Dr. Francis Bonnefoy, Chief Medical Officer had a nurse in one of his arms (surely there was a rule against that, but Starfleet had always been rather lenient on work relationships) and a glass of some mysterious whiskey in the other. He was a Betazoid, though somewhere in his ancestry he claimed there was a French human. “I think a few glasses ought to quell your irritated and confused state.” He grinned. Ludwig hated that. Yes, Betazoid’s were telepaths, and Dr. Bonnefoy used that ability to his advantage mostly to treat patients, but despite the Doctor’s care in not reading the minds of his fellow shipmates (it would be rather rude after all), he could not help but pick up on strong feelings. These he was more careless about keeping to himself and Ludwig would have preferred that the Doctor not expose the emotions that his Captain worked hard to keep in check. It was a common misconception amongst Terrans and other races that Vulcans had no emotions. Vulcans were actually a highly emotional race, they simply chose Logic as a better path to avoid the mistakes of the past.

“Wipe that grimace off your face Lud! You’re on break, here, your favorite.” Gilbert slammed the pint of dark German beer down on the bar, spilling it on the apparent old wood table.

“I was not grimacing.” He protested, but Ludwig moved towards the bar anyway, reasoning that with him there, it would be slightly less likely that Gilbert and Francis could get into any significant trouble. At least his Bajoran First Officer Antonio was on the bridge in the Captain’s chair. For whatever reason, Gilbert, Francis and Antonio had become fast friends within the first week of the journey. Ludwig was indifferent to how loud they could get until a resultant party at the bar left most the crew incapacitated for a day. He did not realize how the three could still be grinning even as he was forced to discipline two senior officers and his own brother.

“Hey, Luddy, Fran!” Gilbert motioned them closer with a loud whisper.

“Brother, surely you know that at that volume, everyone can still hear you.”

Gilbert waved the comment away with a look of annoyance, but dropped his volume anyway. “Well since my own little brother has demanded that I need to ask permission now before I hold major parties at my own bar, I wanted to see what you guys thought of a surprise birthday party here at Gilbird’s.” He grinned.

Ludwig mentally reviewed the crew’s birthdays in his mind and could not think of anyone...except.

“You wish to celebrate the first anniversary of the crew with this ship.” Ludwig stated.

“Hell yes! It’s worth celebrating, good for morale and all that. And with the Captain himself here, it would-”

Ludwig’s comm beeped. “Bridge to Captain Beilschmidt.” It was Antonio’s voice, sounding uncharacteristically serious. Gilbert silenced himself automatically, and Francis listened in as Ludwig tapped the comm to acknowledge.

“Captain Beilschmidt here. What is happening up there Commander?”

“...You had better come see for yourself Captain.”

The three men glanced at each other before Gilbert nodded and pulled the drinks from the bar. Ludwig took off with Francis to the bridge. For the usually cheerful Bajoran to contact the Captain on break, and not want to risk explaining the situation over the air, something either extremely out of the ordinary or potentially dangerous had been found. Their current scouting mission had taken them near the Romulan neutral zone. Something that all crew members knew to be wary of. Even though the Romulans under Praetor Roma were on better terms with the Federation these days than before, Starfleet was still on guard. It would not be the first time the Romulans had feigned interest in friendlier relations just to distract the Federation or deliver a blow elsewhere. Besides, if the improved relations were genuine, a careless and unlawful incursion into the zone would single-handedly dismantle decades long peace efforts of Federation diplomats.

As the turbolift opened into the bridge, Ludwig strode out and quickly took in the scene before him. After contacting him, Antonio had declared Yellow Alert. All personnel were on guard and shields were raised as a precaution. The view screen showed a damaged Romulan scout ship, dead in space and spinning in circles. “Report.” He ordered.

Antonio nodded. “About half an hour ago during the standard run, Commander Del picked up a message on an obscure subspace channel.” Antonio looked at Roderica, indicating that she ought to tell this part of the story.

The brown haired, serious faced Trill acknowledged. “The message source was Romulan, but was using an old frequency. Captain, this frequency hasn't been used since my previous host’s time on Romulus. Most modern warbirds would not think to look for it.”

Ludwig nodded at that, curious. Roderica was the fifth host for the Del symbiont. Where Dax was known as an adventurer, Del was a musician, something that was preferred for its hosts. Two lifetimes ago, Amadeus Del had taken it upon himself to travel to and live upon the Romulan, Klingon and Cardassian homeworlds to access what was then, elusive musical forms to Trill and the Federation.

“It was a distress call, but it was not in Romulan. In fact, it was delivered in my language.”

Ludwig knew that she was not indicating languages on Trill. Roderica had already distinguished herself in Stafleet before his becoming Captain by inventing a new universal translation language based on music. It was an unexpected improvement on Starfleet’s already extensive communicator technology, and had enabled crews to speak to no less than three first contact life forms where machines had failed.

“So basically,” Antonio continued. “We received a tonal distress call on an ancient Romulan subspace channel. Sensors picked up nothing, but then about five minutes later, sensors detected a ship just about a hundred miles in front of us. We went on screen and saw what you’re seeing now. It floats like that, and goes in and out of cloak every five minutes. We rescan each time she appears.”

“Life signs?” Ludwig asked.

Antonio shook his head in the negative. “None. But our readings suggest that atmospheric controls are active.”

Ludwig blinked in surprise. “Then, there’s a chance that there is a survivor on board.” He stated. Logically that was the more reasonable answer as to why a ship that was apparently dead in space should have all remaining power redirected to atmospheric controls and relaying an obscure distress signal. “A survivor who was looking for us.”

Antonio nodded. “That is one possibility. The other possibility however, is that we’re too late, and the survivor has perished, leaving this behind for us to find. Either way,” he chuckled. “I don’t imagine the Romulans will be too happy to find one of their own out here like this...so obviously looking for us or anyone not Romulan. Sir, we could be stumbling into an internal Romulan affair.”

Ludwig laced his fingers and leaned back in his chair, considering. His first officer was correct. Also, as a Bajoran and therefore a citizen of the planet which was the Federation’s newest member, Antonio was very sensitive to the possibility of intruding where he was not welcome.

“Commander Héderváry, your thoughts?” Ludwig turned to his Human/Klingon Chief of Security and Tactical Officer. He had known Z’Bet as a young boy on Vulcan. During his father’s time as the Federation Ambassador to Vulcan, he was close friends Z’Bet’s father, who was also in Starfleet. Z’Bet’s mother was the Klingon Ambassador. Off duty, she doted on him like an older sister would, and bashed Gilbert’s head in like one would to a difficult brother.  
Z’Bet frowned at the screen. “It would be dishonorable of us to ignore a distress call, but I’m wary of Romulan traps Captain. The Federation has had plenty of experience with those.”

Ludwig turned to Francis. “Doctor, at this distance you can’t read thoughts, but can you sense any emotion out there?” Surely if anyone was alive, the Betazoid could pick it up where sensors failed.

Francis tried to smile, but looked worried. “I was waiting for you to ask Captain. Yes I do, in fact.”

The rest of the crew turned, surprised.

“It is very strong, and my ability to feel the emotion at such intensity over this distance leads me to believe that this poor soul is either the most terrified creature in the whole quadrant, or is partially Betazoid as well.”

Ludwig raised a considering eyebrow. This situation was getting stranger and stranger.

“It’s too suspicious.” Amelia interjected. “It’s just the type of situation to draw a Federation vessel in and spring a trap!”

Francies frowned at the young ensign. “Suspicious or no, this ship is not in the Romulan zone. It’s on our side and we have every right to explore this vessel. As a doctor, I have a responsibility to make sure that care is provided to those in need of it, and the best attention I can provide. I will not leave what could be a terrified Federation citizen adrift in space. Romulan ship or no.”

“And as Starfleet personnel,” Ludwig interjected. “We have a responsibility to provide assistance. Whoever was piloting that ship was obviously looking for help away from Romulus. We cannot leave it behind unless we are sure that no one is left on board.”

Ludwig pondered his options. It would not be recommended to beam an away team of two on board the ship as it was twisting and drifting in space. Even though it had been keeping to a pattern of de-cloaking every five minutes, there was no guarantee that the ship would continue to follow that pattern and he was not going to lose anyone because of such a silly assumption. Besides, there was the gravity issue as well. The ship was not stable. Sensors were still showing nothing else in the area, but that did not mean there wasn’t a cloaked Warbird out there. He was not eager to find out if the Romulan Empire was keen on starting another war, but they could not simply leave the person on the ship. Why could they not detect this person through their sensors? Perhaps they were looking for an Android with an emotion chip?

“Alright, stay on Yellow Alert.” Ludwig declared once he made his decision. “Ensign Jones, the ship looks like its floating closer to us. Will you be able to hold it in a tractor beam before it disappears again?”

“Two more minutes until it cloaks again Sir. You bet I can catch it, I don’t feel like turning this ship around to chase after her.” Amelia winked. All year long she had been aching for something extraordinary to happen, and instead, every mission had been routine. Ludwig noted that she was probably the happiest person on the bridge.

Ludwig tapped his comm badge to speak to his Chief of Operations. Lt. Honda had been tapped into the discussion from the engineering room. “Mister Honda, anything that need concern us?”

“No Captain. Everything is in order.”

“Good.” Ludwig nodded. “Proceed.”

Amelia scrunched her face up in concentration, waiting for the scout ship to tumble its way towards them as she carefully maneuvered the ship and tractor beam into position.

“One minute to cloak.” Roderica announced.

It felt like the one minute stretched out for hours. Francis suddenly let out a groan as he gripped the banister. He let out a tired laugh. “Whoever it is, is truly terrified. Commander Del, I would appreciate your assistance whenever we extract this poor soul.”

Roderica nodded stiffly. She had not been fond of the Doctor since his rather disastrous attempt at flirting with her when she arrived on the ship, but respected his professionalism when a true medical situation arose.

“Got it!” Amelia grinned, pumping a fist into the air. Right as the tractor was confirmed, the ship cloaked, and the crew stood at the ready, hearts pumping, watching the view screen and reading sensors to make sure that no attack was imminent.

“Mr. Honda, any anomalous readings on either our engines or the ship’s?”

“Not yet Captain. Scans indicate the other ship’s engines are still dead. There is no leakage of any kind.”

Ludwig nodded and stood up. “Commander Nandez, you have the bridge. Doctor, Commanders Héderváry and Del, please come with me.”

As the three followed their Captain, Francis commed his nurse to meet him in the transporter room with his med kit while Z’Bet and Roderica readied their phasers. Once they arrived in the transporter room, they suited up into their space suits to physically board the mysterious craft.

Once Francis had his med kit ready, they waited for the remaining few minutes for the ship to uncloak. Ludwig commed Lt. Honda. “Is the ship stabilized enough for use of the transporter Mr. Honda?”

“Affirmative Captain. Using our knowledge of the Lanada class scout ship schematics, I should have you four beamed onto their bridge.”

“Excellent. Beilschmidt to Nandez, we will only have five minutes to complete the search of the vessel. It is a small vessel, but, should the ship cloak with us in it, we will continue contact through comms. If however, communication is impossible, perform a sensor sweep once the ship de-cloaks and beam us back on board. If sensors fail to detect us, do not enter. Call for aid and haul the ships to the closest Federation outpost station for investigation.”

“Affirmative Captain.” Then the Commander’s voice turned cheerful again. “Happy hunting! And walk with the Prophets.”

Ludwig occasionally wondered about the Bajoran religion. Still, at least they knew their Gods existed somewhere in the universe. He turned to the other three to make sure that they were ready.

“Alright everyone, set phasers on stun. Mr. Honda, four to beam.”

Ludwig waited to feel the familiar yet uncomfortable sensation of the beam’s lights flying before his eyes before the transporter room disappeared before him, to be replaced by the more unfamiliar sight of the angular designed Romulan bridge. They stayed rock still until the transport completed. Immediately, they drew phasers and scanned their surroundings for potential threats. The bridge was apparently empty.

“Atmospheric scans show that life support systems are active.” Roderica declared, holding up her tricorder. Carefully, they all removed their head gear and breathed.

“Captain,” Francis sounded stressed. “I am feeling a great surge of emotion from behind us, outside of the bridge. Also...very garbled thoughts.”

Ludwig nodded. “Doctor, you lead. Hetalia, anything on sensors?”

Antonio voice crackled back over the comm. “Still nothing Captain. Three minutes to cloak.”

“Noted.”

  
They made their way through the small scout ship, following Francis to what was unmistakably a small kitchen.

“There’s nothing here.” Roderica frowned.

“Well it’s the loudest here.” Francis protested. Suddenly, he relaxed and smiled. “And now there’s silence. Still fear though. Hello? You have nothing to fear from us.”

Silence reigned. Ludwig meanwhile, looked around the room again until he noticed something rather strange for a Romulan ship. Taking out his phaser, he cautiously approached what looked like a crate of Earth grown tomatoes.

“Hello there.” He felt rather ridiculous speaking to a box of tomatoes. “I am Captain Ludwig Beilschmidt of the Federation Starship Hetalia. We mean you no harm.”

Before anyone else could move, the lid exploded off the top and a shrill voice yammered on in their ears.

“Please don’t kill me! Please Please Please! I haven’t lived yet! I’m still a virgin! You wouldn’t kill a virgin would you? What would you do if you-”

“QUIET!!!!” Ludwig bellowed, surprising even himself.

Ludwig gazed down at the frightened young man in the box in front of him. Lanky and delicately built, the emotional tears and upturned ears marked the boy, no, young man as Romulan, except he lacked the brow ridges that differentiated modern day Romulans from their Vulcan cousins. Then he remembered what Francis had said. Could he be a hybrid? A half Betazed-Romulan? He looked closely into the young man’s eyes and noted the extra black iris surrounded by only a thin circle of molten brown. Betazed-Romulan indeed, and beautiful.

Ludwig immediately stopped his thoughts and almost slapped his own face. Where had that come from?

“Oh! You think my eyes are beautiful? Thank you nice Starfleet Mister Vulcan man! I think your eyes are really pretty too! I've never seen eyes so blue! That’s very odd because I thought that Vulcans were just like us and tend to have brown hair and dark eyes you know, but I guess you must be half human! I’m half human too! Or at least we think I am, I’m not really sure, it never really seemed right you know? Oh! I’m so rude I need to introduce myself don’t I? Hello! I’m Feliciano!”

The odd self proclaimed Human-Romulan held out his hand, smiling eagerly. When Ludwig did not respond, his face showed obvious distress before he smiled again and raised his hand, trying unsuccessfully to give the Vulcan salute. “Uh...Live Long and Prosper...?”

Ludwig had been frozen the moment Feliciano had started speaking again, shocked into dumbness at this most unlikely of Romulans to have ever graced the Galaxy. His comm beeped and Antonio’s voice drifted through. “Captain, the ship will cloak again in thirty seconds and sensors now detect an additional life-form. Five to beam on board?”

But Ludwig was still struck quiet and dumb. While Roderica looked concerned at Ludwig’s sudden incapacity, Francis was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing. Z’Bet only grinned. Tapping on her comm, she responded so that her Captain did not have to. “Confirmed Commander. Five to beam onboard.”

When they were beamed back onto the _Hetalia_ , Ludwig still wore an expression of stone shock and befuddlement. Their new guest was still trying to give a Vulcan salute with an adoring look on his tear-stained face. Roderica settled on an expression of exasperated expectation, Z’Bet was grinning maniacally and Francis gave up trying to control himself, and fell to the floor laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> There! My attempt at a Star Trek/Hetalia crossover. This verse won’t follow specific Trek logic, it’s more like me picking and choosing to play with what the Star Trek Universe gives us. That being said, the timeline is post DS9 - it assumes that Bajor has become a member of the Federation, and characters will eventually refer to the Dominion War.
> 
> Yes, there is a reason why sensors could not detect Feliciano. I'll get into it.
> 
> I'm mostly going to post occasional fics here and there in this 'verse as and when I feel like it - how the crew came together, past adventures, or even continuing this one. 
> 
> I was asked to provide a summary of Star Trek races and history for readers who don't read Star Trek. It's a little lengthy and I'm working on shortening it, but I've posted notes on my LJ [here](http://zazial.livejournal.com/5937.html)
> 
> Reviews welcome!


End file.
